Read Crossing The Line (A Taboo Love series Book 3) Online

Authors: M.D. Saperstein,Andria Large

Crossing The Line (A Taboo Love series Book 3) (11 page)

 

Chapter Eight

Chance

I’m sitting in my trailer messing around on my phone when there comes a knock on the door. I glance up then back down at my phone as I call for whomever it is to come in. The door squeaks open. I glance up again to see Parker stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. I straighten a little on the couch I’m sitting on.

Parker has been keeping me at an arm's length ever since that night I stayed over his house, which was two weeks ago. There has been no more kissing or anything else since. I’m trying not to feel hurt about it because I know that Parker is freaked out by the whole thing, but it’s hard not to feel something. I watch the man now as he stops just inside the door and shoves his hands in his pockets, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"Hey man, what's up?" I ask, trying to sound casual, setting my phone down on the couch next to me.

Parker glances at me nervously, his hand going to the back of his neck to rub it. He clears his throat. "Jerry is ready to do the first sex scene," he says hoarsely.

Jerry is the director. I nod. "Okay," I drawl, looking over Parker’s obvious nervousness. "Are you ready?" I ask carefully.

Parker’s worried blue eyes meet mine. He licks his lips, a movement I can’t help but follow with my eyes. Parker runs a shaky hand down his face and shakes his head. "I...what if..." he stammers, dropping his hand so it slaps against his thigh.

I bite back a smile as I realize exactly what’s making Parker so upset. He doesn’t want to get all hot and bothered in front of the crew. "How long until we start shooting?"

"Ten minutes," he says distractedly as he starts to pace, one hand on his hip, the other squeezing the bridge of his nose.

I push up from the couch and go to him. I take his arm, stopping his pacing. Parker sighs heavily and turns to look down at me grimly. I rub my hand up and down his arm to try to calm him. He looks really good at the moment in dress pants and a dress shirt that has the first couple of buttons undone. He is clean-shaven, which makes the dimples on his cheeks more pronounced.

"I could take the edge off for you, that way you'd already be drained and wouldn't get hard as quickly, if at all," I suggest, stepping in closer so that my body brushes against his.

His breath catches and his eyes widen. He takes a step back and bumps into the counter of the little kitchenette. "I can't...no, you don't have to," he breathes.

I roll my eyes and step up to Parker. "Parker, we're going to be naked on set, pretending to have sex. I know you don't want to get hard in front of the crew and I'm giving you a solution here that will most likely help, just let me take care of you, alright?" I say, ducking my head to try to catch his eyes that are staring down at the floor.

Parker’s nostrils flare with the force of his breaths, his mouth is set in a grim line and his body is trembling slightly. His light eyes lift to meet mine. I have my answer without Parker ever having to say a word. It’s all in his eyes. He wants it. He wants me to make him come.

I clasp the sides of Parker’s face and kiss him. He freezes for a moment before sinking into the kiss, his hands tentatively settling on my hips. I press my body against his, loving the feel of the hard muscles under his clothing. I’m seriously psyched about us getting naked together. I have seen Parker naked already, but I’m dying for another look. The man is perfection. I could care less if I get hard in front of the crew. It’s mostly men anyway and I’m not ashamed of my body's reaction to physical contact, whether it’s with a woman or a man. But Parker, he is so concerned about what people will think of him. That people will think he is gay.

Parker kisses me back, but it’s nothing like the heated one that we shared at his place. I drag my hands down over his neck and down his chest. Parker’s grip on my hips tightens slightly as he pulls a breath in through his nose. My hands slip lower, over his rock hard abs before stopping at the top of his dress pants.

"You’re gonna have to do better than this," I rasp against his lips.

Parker pulls back slightly. "What do you want from me?" he asks, his voice pained.

"At least act like you fucking want it and enjoy it. How are you going to do it on screen if you can't do it when it's just the two of us?" I snap as I start yanking at his belt buckle to get it open.

Parker’s head falls forward, his forehead landing on my shoulder. He sighs heavily, his hands sliding around my waist to hug me. "I'm sorry, Chance, I'm just...you have no idea how torn up I am inside, how utterly lost I am, how confused and scared I am," he whispers.

I sigh and place a hand on the back of his head. "This is not going to make you gay.  This movie is...it's just a part you're playing. You are not your character. So what if you get turned on in the process? Find me a guy who wouldn't. Us men, we're easy, it's just our nature."

Parker lets out a reluctant chuckle and lifts his head. His blue eyes glittering with amusement. "You know, you're making it really hard to keep disliking you," he murmurs, a hint of a smile on his face.

I bark out a laugh and shake his head. “Yeah, ditto."

He snorts.

I watch him for a moment and something passes between us. Some kind of connection that hadn't been there before. We are wrapped in each other’s arms, staring at each other. My heart is pounding. I have a feeling that I’m not going to be coming out of this experience the same man. I like this feeling of being in another man's arms way too much for me to ever go back. Well, not exactly any man's arms. It’s Parker’s arms that I enjoy. I don’t think that I’d feel this way about any other man.

Parker then bends his head down and captures my lips. I immediately moan. This is what I’ve been craving for two weeks now, being back in Parker’s arms. I am just about to undo his pants when there is a knock on the trailer door. Parker jumps back so fast that he ends up pushing me, and I almost fall into the door. He quickly buckles his belt then moves to sit on the couch. He leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and clasping his hands together in front of his mouth.

"Yeah?" I growl in frustration at the door.

The door opens and the director's assistant Morgan peeks her head in. "Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Steele, Jerry is ready for you now," she says, glancing between the two of us.

"Thanks, Morgan, we'll be right there," I say with a tight smile.

She nods before leaving, shutting the door behind her.

Parker lets out a breath that he has apparently been holding and covers his face with his hands.

"Looks like we're out of time," I mutter. "Come on, Ramone.” I use a new nickname to lighten the tension now surrounding us. It’s suffocating. “Pull yourself together. We have a sex scene to shoot." 

“Ramone? Seriously. And where did you come up with that gem?” he asks sarcastically, and I’m glad he took the bait.

“I don’t know, I was just thinking. Hamilton. Shortened to Hamil. Dorothy Hamil. Dorothy. She’s from the Wizard of Oz. Ooh, Ozzy Osborne. He’s in the band Black Sabbath. Which made me ponder...What is my favorite band? Then I came up with the Ramones. See? That’s how I got from Hamilton to Ramone,” I state, as simply as if I was telling him that the sky is blue. I am the king of distraction.

He looks at me disbelievingly. “I don’t know if I should be offended that you got Ramone from Hamilton, or embarrassed for you that your favorite band is the Ramones,” Parker says incredulously. Why isn’t he laughing?

I smile wryly. “Well, it was either that or Hendrix. I didn’t think you would appreciate being called Jimi.” I laugh nervously.

Parker leans his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. I needed that. He shakes his head at me and starts to walk away. “No, Steele, I don’t suppose I would.”

With that, I head out of the trailer and follow him to the set.

Parker

I stare at the open set door. Fuck! It’s now or never. I was just kissing Chance and we would have gone even further if we weren’t interrupted. My mind is swirling. What would Chance have done to me had he been able to keep going? Did it matter? Whatever it was, I had wanted it, and wanted it bad. This is going to be a disaster. I am already hard and now the crew will think I’ve switched teams. Which I haven’t. Have I?

I groan then push my feet to step on set. When I walked out of the trailer, I shut the door behind me, only to see Chance open it again, walking behind me toward the set. The sneak distracted me with that Ramone ditty, but now I’m back to being caught up in my own thoughts.  My body slows down as my mind continues to race, giving him the opportunity to strut past me. I have to admit, the man is built perfectly. I watch him walk...no...swagger, is more like it. Something about it, I find attractive. He doesn’t have anything feminine about him, he is all male, and it makes my heart race for whatever reason.

Chance slows then comes to a stop at the door to the set. He turns, his eyes immediately meeting mine. He motions with his head for me to follow as he goes inside. I take a deep breath and force myself to move.

When I walk on set, it is set up like the hotel room Wade and Jackson are staying in. I walk over to the director and Chance so that we can go over how the scene is going to go. Once we are all clear, we take our places. Both of us are shirtless and Jackson is supposed to be helping Wade clean up some cuts on his back before the scene gets more heated. And boy does it get steamy.

"CUT!" calls Jerry, the director.

I collapse down next to Chance in the bed, shifting the sheet that covers us so that I can lie on my back. We are both sweaty, and I am so turned on that I am just about ready to fuck Chance for real, which scares the shit out of me. Chance is lying on his stomach under the sheet. We are both naked underneath, having both opted out of the modesty pouch thingy; it wouldn't have stayed, anyway, as we are both hard as rocks. I throw my arm over my eyes and try to slow my heart rate and control my desire. Thank god for the sheet, otherwise everyone would have known that I was literally rubbing my erection between Chance’s ass cheeks. It felt incredible and I almost came right before Jerry called “cut.” Chance must have been close, too, because he was panting and his moans were sounding very real.

Chance’s hand stretches out and pats me on the chest. "Good job, buddy," he mutters.

"Shit, man, I almost lost it. A couple more seconds and you would have had jizz on your back," I whisper.

I feel Chance shift next to me so I lift my arm to see what he is doing. He has lifted his head and is now smiling lazily at me. I can’t help but return the smile.

"What?" I ask, curious about the look on his face.

"Nothin’," he says, shaking his head.

I narrow my eyes at him but let it go. "I think I'm gonna need to get laid tonight," I mutter, staring up at the ceiling.

Chance shifts closer and I can feel his breath on my lips. "You can fuck me," he whispers so quietly that I’m not sure I hear him right.

I lift my arm again, my eyes wide. "What?" I breathe.

Chance’s face is mere inches away from my own, his dark brown eyes boring into mine. "I want you to finish what we started here," he says so quietly that only I can hear him.

I shake my head, slowly at first before speeding up. "No, definitely not, not gonna happen, Chance," I blurt.

Chance’s face hardens. His jaw clenches and he looks away. He doesn't say another word, just rolls away and takes the towel that one of the assistants left on the bed for us. He wraps it around his waist before heading off set. My gut twists. Shit, he’s upset now. Or pissed. Whatever he is, I feel like an ass. But what did he expect? I have barely touched him, other than what I had to do for this scene. There is no way that I’m ready or even willing to do more than what I already have.

I take the other towel from the bed and wrap it around my waist as I climb out of the bed. I’m not going to sleep with Chance. So who can I get to take the edge off this time? I’m not in the mood for Olivia again, or any of the other women I could booty call. Nah, none of them interest me. Time for new blood. Looks like I’m going to be dropping in on old Calvin tonight at Club Masquerade.

 

Chapter Nine

Parker

Club Masquerade – or as those familiar with it, Club M – is an exclusive upscale sex club owned by one of my best friends, Calvin King, better known to you as Charlie’s husband. It is a membership only club, and all precautions are taken to ensure everyone’s safety, including background checks.  It’s perfect for me because it is also completely anonymous. Everyone has to wear a mask, and nobody can speak. See? Perfect.

I’m in a piss poor mood, so I’m not as friendly with Monica, the girl at the door, as I usually am.  She must see it on my face because she doesn’t press me.  I grab my nametag and in-house messenger from her as I slide my mask down my forehead.  She raises an eyebrow in question and I know exactly what she is asking.  Yes, I need a key for a VIP room tonight.  She hands me an oversized brass key and I briefly enjoy the familiar bite of sharp, cold metal on my palm.  The irony not lost on me that I’ve already unlocked one too many doors today.

An attractive red head catches my eye from across the room. She is tall and statuesque.  Not my usual go to type – soft and petite - but today of all days is time to shake it up.  We text back and forth a few times, trying to feel her out, see what she is looking for.  When she writes the magic words “no strings attached,” I send her the room number and ask her to meet me up there in ten minutes.  I need to have another drink first.  Work today was nothing short of a mind fuck, and I can’t seem to shake it. Please let this girl solve my problem, I send up a silent prayer. 

I shut and lock the bedroom door before turning to find Big Red, as I’ve dubbed her, standing by the end of the bed. I rip my shirt over my head as I cross the room to her and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her tight against me as my lips descend on hers. She moans and grips my shoulders.

I lift her so that she wraps her arms and legs around me, then I crawl up onto the bed with her, putting her under me. Something feels off about it. I try to ignore it, try not to think about how wrong it feels to have this woman under me. What the fuck is wrong with me? She is gorgeous and she has huge boobs. I’ve always loved a big rack.
Loved?
  I am momentarily shocked by my past tense thoughts. I lift my head and stare down at her beautifully flushed face, at least what I can see of it.

She draws her brows in concern as if to ask, "You okay?"

I shake my head to clear it and try to give her a smile. Nodding down at her. But I am completely distracted, my mind drifting to a hard body with firm lips.

She pouts, clearly seeing that I’m not all here with her. Trying to keep my attention, she rolls us so that she is on top, and then wiggles her way down my body.

I wait for the curl of desire to hit me, but it never happens. Even as she undoes my jeans and pulls them off, I remain soft. Big Red kneels between my legs, her eyebrows furrowed.

I follow her line of sight to find my flaccid cock, laying across my hip. I gently push her head back toward my limp dick, encouraging her to keep going, hoping that if she touches me I will get hard.

              She shrugs before bending down to drag her tongue down the length of my cock. I close my eyes and let her do her thing. She licks me a few more times before pulling me into her mouth. No matter how good it feels, the only thing that I can think is that it’s not Chance and his capable mouth. Fuck! This can’t be happening! I shove Chance from my mind and try to focus on Big Red and what she’s doing. Even after a couple of minutes of her sucking my dick, I still haven't gotten hard.

Thank god I didn’t call one of my fuck buddies. Anonymity is my best friend. Can you just picture the headlines: Parker Hamilton has a new role…the eunuch!

Big Red pulls back, sitting on her heels, giving me an expectant look.

I groan and cover my face with my hands. I feel the bed move as she gets up to gather her clothes. I feel bad. Awful.  I wish I could tell her that it isn’t her, but rules are rules and I can’t speak. She starts dressing quickly, probably trying to escape humiliation. Meanwhile, I’m the one who should be mortified.  I send her a quick message telling her, hoping to soften the blow.

Ham Bone #069: I’m sorry. It isn’t u

Red Apple #331: Whatever, asshole

Ham Bone #069: Come on, don’t be like that

Red Apple #331: Fuck you. 1
st
some Nico asshole throws me out of his room…this same room…and now u? wtf

I frown at her. Nico? Shit, this chick gets around apparently. Now I’m really glad that I didn’t go there. Parker Hamilton doesn’t do sloppy seconds.

Ham Bone #069: I’m just having some personal issues, really, it has nothing to do with u

Red Apple #331: Don’t give a shit. Don’t text me again

She storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I flop back and make an aggravated noise in my throat. Dammit! Fucking Chance!

Still Parker…

I find myself a comfortable seat at the bar and nod at the bartender. He knows what I want. I am here often enough.  I’m not ready to be alone with my thoughts, but I don’t really want to be bothered by anyone, so I remove my name tag with my number on it so nobody can contact me. I see Calvin doing a sweep of the floor, making sure everyone is safe and following the rules so I lift my beer at him in a “cheers” fashion, hoping he doesn’t come over here.  I lean my head back and take a swig of my Heineken, needing to feel the heady sensation of my way-too-tense muscles beginning to relax some. Just as my buzz helps to fog my brain, a warm body slides into the stool next to me. Shit, I really don’t want to deal with anyone.

Without turning toward them, I allow my eyes to wander in their direction, curiosity getting the best of me. Oh thank god, it’s just Charlie.  I look at her sitting there looking so beautiful, willing myself to get turned on. Something. Anything. Nothing.  I don’t for the life of me understand what has shifted in me in a matter of days. No, hours, if I’m being completely honest with myself. I must be staring at her longer than I should because all of a sudden her brows furrow. Then my messenger vibrates.

Mrs. King #228:  Hey, sweetie

I laugh as her text comes through. I know who’s idea that was.

Ham Bone #069: Nice new nametag

She laughs, covering her heart with her hand. She rubs it affectionately.

Mrs. King #228:  That’s your friend

Ham Bone #069:  You married him

Mrs. King #228:  True & I’d do it all over again. Wait until Nick finds out that changing nicknames is an option. Delilah is screwed. lol

I smile absentmindedly, a little jealous of their relationships. Up until now, it’s never bothered me to see how in love they all are.

Mrs. King #228: Hey…u ok?

Ham Bone #069:  Fine

Mrs. King #228:  I know u better than that

I laugh – on the inside. Yeah, I guess she does know me pretty well.

Ham Bone #069:  I’ll be fine. Just got some stuff on my mind

Mrs. King #228:  Anything u want to talk about?

Do I? Yeah, maybe getting a woman’s perspective would help.

Ham Bone #069:  Ok, but not here

Mrs. King #228:  Want me to get a room upstairs?

I laugh, again – on the inside.  Oh, the irony. Another beautiful woman wants to go upstairs to a room with me, and all that will be going on is talking.

Ham Bone #069:  Already got one

We head up to the room I got earlier. Nick and Delilah’s old room, it’s now been dubbed. I take a seat on the end of the bed and Charlie sits next to be. Man, I am having the worst case of déjà vu. Only, this time, it’s me spilling my guts about my sexual history. I hope she takes this better than I did when she told me that she was raped as a teenager.

Charlie moves closer then turns with her knee up on the bed, facing me. She places her hand on my chest. "Parker, talk to me, what’s going on?" she asks, a hint of concern in her voice.

I scrub my face with my hands before turning my head to look at her. "Swear to me that you won't tell a soul."

She actually looks a little hurt by that statement. "Parker, you of all people know how well I can keep things to myself."

I give her a sharp nod before I turn to stare up at the ceiling. "So, I’m sure that you know this already…I'm shooting this movie with Chance Steele and we have to play gay men.”

“Don’t tell me that you guys are still at each other’s throats. You seemed fine at the dinner party. You guys need to get over whatever beef you have with each other.”

I stare at her incredulously. If she only knew the “beef” we had with each other. I shake my head, trying to clear the image of Chance’s hard cock from my mind.

“We just had to do our first sex scene today..." I pause, not sure if I am ready to admit my feelings to Charlie.

"That's why you are sitting at the bar drinking alone?" she asks softly, rubbing my back in soothing circles. “Were you not able to do it?  Is the director angry?”

I shake my head. "The complete opposite, Char. I was so revved up, that I ran here because I needed to find a woman to finish what I started."

She nods in understanding, "That's understandable."

"But...I...I couldn’t stop thinking that the woman I brought up here wasn’t Chance," I rasp.

She watches me, her face neutral. "What do you mean?" she asks carefully.

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath, preparing to confess the biggest thing. "Chance...a few weeks after you had the girls…I ran into him at a bar and he came to my house afterwards so that we can get the awkwardness out of the way for when we had to kiss and do other shit..." I start.

"Okay." Charlie drawls when I fall silent.

"We kissed and he ended up going down on me." I wince.

Charlie gasps, the hand that had been on my chest flies up to cover her mouth. "What? But I thought that Chance was straight!"

"He is...was...shit, I don't know. He said that he's open minded and curious, but that's not the problem; the problem is that I fucking enjoyed it. I'm talking best blow job ever," I say, glancing at her from the corner of my eye to see her reaction.

She rolls her lips in and looks as if she’s fighting not to laugh. I gape at her.

"You think this is funny?" I say in astonishment.

She waves her hand and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, no it's not funny," she chokes, obviously trying not to laugh.

"Charlie," I groan. "What? Why are you laughing?"

She shrugs, letting her smile go. "It's nothing. I just never thought that you'd let a guy do that to you, and your discomfort about it is kinda funny."

"I didn't want it to feel good, but it did.  And earlier, when Big Red was doing it, it just didn't feel the same, he fucking ruined it for me."

"Maybe you just need to explore this with Chance, he's obviously willing." She shrugs.

"He wants to have sex with me, Char. I don't think that I can do that. I'm straight, never wanted a guy in my life..." I start.

"Until now," she says, cutting me off with a pointed look. "Maybe you're not as straight as you think."

"What? No! I’m straight, not bi or gay, just straight," I insist.

"Then you should have been able to fuck that chick as soon as your pants came off; apparently, pussy doesn't turn you on anymore," she says, an amused glint in her eye.

Well, shit. Thank god for Charlotte and her say it like it is, take no prisoners, doesn’t sugar coat anything, attitude. I grit my teeth. But, can Charlie be right? Can I really have changed that quickly to being bi? Or even gay? I turn to my side to face her, my knee now on the bed hitting hers. I check her out again, trying to prove to her - and to myself - that I am still straight. Beautiful face, curly blonde hair, ice blue eyes, pouty lips, perky breasts…nothing, my dick doesn’t even twitch. 
Fuck me!
  My hand skims down to the front of my pants and I squeeze gently, trying to get some movement. Anything. I feel nothing.

Charlie’s eyes are sparkling in laughter.  “Thou dost protest too much, methinks.”

I let the words swirl in my head for a few seconds, dawning on me what that’s from. No she didn’t.  “What did you just say?”

“It’s a quote from Haml…” she starts, but I stand up abruptly, essentially cutting her off.  I guess if I would have asked for a sign that would be it.

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